Frost Moon - resubmitted

Icy fingers have traced
a circle around the moon
among the brittle stars
and the earth is rendered hard,
glittering with cold.

The world holds its breath,
no exhaled clouds
shroud Luna’s naked beauty,
crisp shadows dance before us
as we walk in her cool incandesence.

I have seen this Frost Moon before
through semi-pellucid paisley glass
and the arabesque of empty boughs.

I have watched her stalk me
as I ride through the trees
or when she rises, flaxen,
over the horizon
to slip westward in full sail.

She has been my companion on wakeful nights,
a baleful eye reading over my shoulder
or whispering madness into my dreams.
In the indifference of dawn, she lingers still,
a pale ghost low in the sky,
ousted by the rising sun.